Three Strangers at a Bus Stop
by debookworm01
Summary: Three young men reflect on how they let their loved ones go.


**Three Strangers at a Bus Stop**

**Summary: Three young men reflect on how they let their loved ones go.**

**A/N: Kay, so read, review, constructive criticism, you know the drill! Please don't just plain - hate. Tell me why, so I can work on it! **

**Only short, but hopefully meaningful. May be slightly OOC but oh well. This isn't really set in any specific time in particular, just read it as it is, it should explain itself... mostly.  
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><p>The trio stood there in the bleak bus shelter, all waiting for one thing, but dreading the time when it came. One was dressed in black, one in brown, and one is white and blue. None of them spoke – there was nothing they wished to say. They seemed as if they had been happy once, though a long time ago, before the colour and happiness had drained from their eyes.<p>

Their clothes were damp from the fog that clung to everything around them – in amongst the trees, and spread like a glittering blanket across the grass. Their surroundings were strangely beautiful despite the constant line of traffic that drove past – however, the three men noticed none of this. Their minds were all on one thing: should they really be leaving behind everything they cared for? Or was it best if they went on the bus and never came back?

The one in white and blue began humming a mournful tune that would have sent shivers down someone's spine – if anyone had been listening. The other two were wrapped up in their own thoughts and heard nothing. They were stuck in the past, and they didn't want to let it go.

The humming man's eyes were glistening, as though he was about to cry, but no tears fell. His golden eyes were swirls of molten lava; he was not hiding how he was feeling. His eyes were the windows to his soul.

As if snapping out of a trance the man standing in the middle of the shelter glanced up at the other and frowned slightly. His clear, blue eyes were also incredibly sad, and his black hair was swooped low on his brow,

"I know that song," he whispered, so quietly he could barely be heard over the traffic, "my mother used to sing it to me when I was a kid." The other man acknowledged his head,

"My father sung it to me as well," he said, "its lyrics remind me of my friend, but it hurts to think about her, lately."

The third man – though he could almost pass for a boy with his scrawny figure, inclined his head and spoke up for the first time.

"So you're running away from a girl, as well? I can tell, the sad tone in your voice, you look like you're about to cry, too."

The golden haired figure glared and the one in brown,

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Neither do I – as if I care about your life, I don't even know you,"

"You appeared like you cared about it before."

"Stop." That came from the one in black clothing. Wisely, he chose to ignore the almost natural hatred between the other two; some things were best left unexplained. He looked calm and collected, but really he was burning on the inside – burning because he had walked out on the person he truly loved – a person who loved him much just as much as he loved them.

"It looks as if we are all in the same situation. We ran out of the ones we love, and if we can relate to that, maybe we can help each other."

Reluctantly, the other two bobbed their heads in agreement. It didn't matter that they didn't know each other. That made it even more confidential. No one would know it was them, and who was there to tell?

"I walked out on my Clary," the blond said almost immediately, "I wasn't right for her. It wasn't that I didn't try, I love her more than I can say, and I just cannot see myself being with her." He swallowed harshly, as though to take away a disgusting take that had built up in his throat.

"I'm gay." The man with blue eyes stated simply, slowly closing his eyes and resting the bridge of his nose on his thumb knuckles. Unlike what he had expected, the two men on either side of him didn't shuffle away, gasp or even make a snide remark. They were indifferent. All love was the same; it just came in different ways.

"Magnus, I'm so different from him, how can he stand me?"

"Both girls I've fallen for – they seem to have come from different worlds from me," the man with brown eyes said, "I know they love me, but I have to let them go." Beside him, the other two nodded.

The one in blue and white suddenly punched the seat he was sitting on in frustration.

"I'm running away," he growled, "my father always used to say; that's an act of cowardice, but right now I don't know what to think. I love her, I love my Clary… I love her _too _much…" His golden eyes were shining again, but he knew he couldn't cry, not now. His journey hadn't even begun yet. He needed to get far away, and he could never come back.

"You know what makes things worse? Both the girls I like? They hate each other – because of _me_. I don't want that, I want them to be happy, without pain, and the constant dread that I'm going to be with another girl." The man in the brown jacket and pants had his hands scrunched into his hair. His eyes were bloodshot; he hadn't slept at all the previous night. Why hadn't he just cut it off with them both in the first place? Now he had gotten himself into this big mess, and there was only one way out of it.

He glanced up at the bus timetable, and his eyes widened as he looked from the table to the watch and back again.

"Too soon," he moaned. And the others clearly thought the same. The bus was 5 minutes late, and suddenly it appeared on the horizon, barely visible in the murkiness of the fog and rain.

The shuffled their feet, looked at each other, unsure of what to do. And when the bus came to a stop in front of them, they all wanted to scream. The blond waited till the bus doors opened, and then walked in unhurriedly,

"Where does this bus go?" he asked the bus driver, barely able to suppress a sob rising from his throat.

"The furthest I'm going is Elmont," the driver said in an uninterested tone. The man stood there in the entrance of the bus, uncertain. Finally, he stepped out again.

Something seemed to click then, something inside the trio, something had changed. They realised something they hadn't before.

"I know what you're doing," the man in black said, "and I'm doing exactly that."

"So am I," the brown eyed man said, a definite tone in his voice.

Then, as one, they walked away in different directions, back the way they had come, going to where they wanted to be. None of them knew that they weren't strangers at all – one was the lover of the other's best friend. Another was the brother of the other's love. Perhaps they would meet again, when they finally did what they had wanted to do for so long. The correct thing which they knew was right in their hearts. But for now, they walked away as strangers, and strangers they would remain for the time.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, I'm probably completely wrong about the "where the bus goes" thing, but that's not my fault. I live in Australia! :)**

**Remember to review, tell me what you think! So if it's cheesy! That's mah thang!**

**Oh, and congratulations to Kate and William! The Royal Wedding was so sweet! :) :)  
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